This I Promise You
by PiaculumDeFatum
Summary: SLASH. CSIxCSI:Miami Crossover. RyanxGreg. Sequel to Better Days. Greg and Ryan strap in for matrimonial bliss, but someone has plans that could ruin their happily ever after. Will their love be strong enough to conquer?
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N_****: **_Happy New Year everyone! I figured the start of a new year should ring in a new chapter in the Greg/Ryan saga that began way back with "Why Can't I?" A few notes before starting:_

_1. This is a songfic in the regards that each chapter begins with a few lines from the song "This I Promise You" by NSYNC._

_2. This is SLASH!! CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED!! IF YOU DO NOT LIKE, DO NOT READ!!!!!_

_3. As aforementioned, this is a Ryan/Greg fic. As such, it obviously does not take place in any specific season, but I want to put a general spoiler warner out there that any material up to the current seasons (Season 9 for CSI and Season 7 for CSI: Miami) is fair game. As such, a few notes on poetic license that I have taken with some of the characters: Alexx is still as the MDPD as the MD. Natalia does not exist, pretty much at all. I really don't like her character._

_4. Rated for language and angst, as per always. Un-beta'd, so blame me for any and all mistakes!_

_5. Please read and review! _

_6. I have no timeline for this fic. The chapters will get published as I write them. _

_7. CSI: and CSI: Miami belong to Jerry Bruckheimer, CBS and Alliance Atlantis. I own neither the characters nor the places nor yet the song. Only the plot._

_As a final note before beginning, this fic takes a bit of a different direction. It had lots of fluff--no worries there--but it also will have sizeable amounts of angst, of a different variety than the previous fics in this series. Just thought I'd give everyone a fair warning before starting. And now, without further ado, I present:_

**This I Promise You**

Chapter One

"_When the visions around you  
Bring tears to your eyes  
And all that surrounds you  
Are secrets and lies"_

Ryan Wolfe woke up slowly, trying to figure out why he felt different. Sitting up, he looked around, and it hit him like a ton of bricks. He was alone. Greg was not there. And while Ryan knew very well that Greg had slept on the couch last night because he had needed to get up early to testify at court this morning, and hadn't wanted to wake Ryan, Ryan still felt a small hole in his heart, a remnant from when Greg had left, seemingly permanently, to return to Vegas. Ryan knew that Greg would never do something like that again, but that knowledge was little comfort.

He just didn't like to be without Greg, even just for one night. The apartment was too cold, the bed too big, his life too empty for those few hours without the company of the blond-haired man that Ryan more than anything in this world.

Looking down, Ryan absentmindedly twisted the ring that occupied the long-vacant spot on his left ring finger. He didn't have to look at it to know that it still was inscribed with the phrase, "The best is yet to be," a perfect summary of the life he and Greg were starting together. And he knew it was true, which was part of what made being separated from Greg, no matter how brief the time, all the more unbearable—Ryan was highly selfish and only human, and wanted Greg for himself, together and alone, wrapped in their perfect forever.

"Well, lying here feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to help anyone," Ryan said aloud to himself as he stretched his arms over his head and sat up. After a moment, he stood and padded into the kitchen, yawning widely.

There was a post-it note on the coffee maker, and Ryan pulled it off, a smile stretching across his face as he read the familiar scrawl. "I figured you'd miss me this morning, so I filled the coffee maker with Blue Hawaiian, just for you. Love you. –G."

Ryan couldn't make the grin disappear off his face as he pushed the button to start the coffee. In fact, he maintained his grin and his blissful sense of contentment all the way until he reached the locker room at work. There, his smile turned into a deep frown as he stared at his locker, his hand still half raised to enter the combination. There it was, scrawled in angry letters across the top right corner. "FAG."

He sighed deeply. He knew his sexuality would be an issue; he always had. It had started to become an issue when he and Greg were first together, but now that he and Greg were engaged, the hate seemed to be coming at them from all directions. Rick Stetler from IAB had made a visit to Ryan's desk to inform him that once he and Greg were married, one of them would have to change shifts. Oh, and, just for Ryan's information, Rick had informed him with a calm smirk that the department did not offer benefits to same sex couples.

And it was worse with many of the police officers. Some that Ryan had even worked with when he worked patrol wouldn't even look him in the eye, and others were blatantly hostile.

Absentmindedly, Ryan traced the letters with one finger, then sighed and shook his head as he went and got some paper towel and wet it in the sink. "Just like high school all over again," he murmured aloud as he scrubbed at the writing.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Wolfe?" H's concerned voice startled Ryan, who turned to see Horatio standing in the doorway, twisting his sunglasses in his hands.

Ryan shrugged. "Just someone being an asshole, H. Nothing you need to worry about."

Horatio walked over, his brow furrowed. "Mr. Wolfe, you should know that harassment of any kind is not tolerated. If you have any idea who might be responsible for this—"

Laughing shortly, Ryan looked away. "You're asking me to name half the MDPD, H. Since Greg and I got engaged, there's been a lot of angry sentiment floating around. We've been dealing with it. It's really not a big deal."

"Are you sure there isn't anything I can do?" Horatio asked softly.

Ryan looked up at him. "Just don't tell Greg," he said, his voice just as soft as Horatio's. "Greg's got more than enough on his plate to deal with. He doesn't need this right now." Horatio nodded once before clapping him on the shoulder and leaving. Ryan looked back at the partially smeared letters. He sighed again. "Neither do I."

* * *

Greg Sanders tapped his fingers against the steering wheel impatiently as he waited at a red light. His testimony in court had gone as well as it could, given that the particular evidence he had presented had been largely circumstantial. Thankfully, the defense attorney hadn't been the best, because he really should've ripped Greg apart in cross-examination. Still, the rest of the evidence had been solid, and even without the circumstantial DNA and trace, the case was pretty much closed.

Which was good, because Greg's mind was not filled with the details of the case as it should have been, but instead with thoughts of hotel arrangements and wedding cake and other general wedding plans. This whole wedding thing was turning out a hell of a lot harder than he had anticipated. Neither the Las Vegas team nor the Miami CSIs could work out a time in their schedule where they could all be together until late December. And then, of course, California passed Proposition 8, which had shot all of Greg's plans even more to hell.

Luckily, Greg's mom had stepped in and had been more than helpful, even though she was all the way over in California. While not entirely comfortable with the fact that her only son had turned out to be gay, she went along with a gusto only found in those that love weddings. She had found the perfect venue for them, a beautiful old lodge in Connecticut, where gay marriage was legal. She had contacted the government there to ensure that all their documentation was in order (though since their marriage was null and void in Florida, Greg didn't really see what it mattered). Oh, and on top of everything, she and Greg's father were completely footing the bill.

All jokes about how Greg was now technically the bride aside, he was more than grateful to his parents. After all, what did he know about planning a wedding? If he had his way, he'd be getting married wearing a Marilyn Manson t-shirt and his old Converse tennis shoes. Both his mother and Ryan had nixed that idea, though he had a few cards up his sleeves in regards to that.

The colors would be simple and classic, well-chosen for winter: black, white, red and silver. The tuxes had been ordered; everything was set. On Greg's side, Gil Grissom was his best man, with Catherine filling in as Matron of Honor (though he told her she could pass as Maid of Honor, she had insisted that Matron was fine), Sara as his bridesmaid—a title she found most hilarious, and Nick rounding out the party as a groomsman. Ryan's side featured Horatio as Best Man with Calleigh as Maid of Honor, Eric as a groomsman, and Alexx as a bridesmaid.

While Greg's parents were more than happy to walk him down the aisle and give him away, the plan hit a snag with regards to Ryan's family. While Greg's parents, while not openly receptive to the idea, had eventually come around to the fact that their son was gay, when Ryan had told his parents years before that he was gay, they had essentially excommunicated him. Greg had tried to surreptitiously figure out a way to get in contact with them, but Ryan had been firm in his resolve: he did not want them there. They had no place in his life.

And Greg would feel awkward with his parents walking him down the aisle when Ryan's weren't even in attendance, so they had compromised on the walking down the aisle thing. They would walk from the sides, meeting each other in the middle. It was the perfect solution that satisfied both of them. And no one would give anyone away.

Greg pulled over next the yellow crime tape fluttering in the breeze and put the Hummer into park. Ryan and Horatio were supposed to meet him here in a few minutes, but Greg didn't see why he couldn't get started on the pictures before everyone else arrived. He got out of the Hummer and retrieved his kit from the back before ducking under the crime tape. He raised a hand in friendly greeting to the two officers leaning against the patrol car on the other side of the crime scene as he headed over the DB.

"Hey look," one of the officers said to the other in a loud voice that carried across the crime scene. "Here comes the fag, all dressed in drag! Pretty good, huh?"

Greg stopped in his tracks and looked over at the officer, his mouth practically falling open in shock at the words that had just come out of the officer's mouth. "Excuse me?" he spluttered, his voice incredulous.

The officer just looked over at the other cop—who was looking vaguely uncomfortable—and grinned widely. "I think you heard me just fine, queer. But if you want to come over here and make something of it, that's fine with me."

A muscle twitched in Greg's jaw, and it took every ounce of his willpower to turn and walk away. "That's right, fag!" the officer called after him, his voice taking on a triumphant tone. "Walk away, just like your pussy boyfriend." To the other cop, he said, loudly enough so Greg could hear, "You know, I heard when Wolfe got shot in the eyes with a nail gun, he acted like a read, screaming and crying like a little girl. Shoulda known then he was a queer. Guy shoulda finished him off when he had a chance."

Something inside Greg snapped at that. Crossing to the officer in three strides, Greg grabbed him by the collar of his uniform and slammed him back against the patrol car. "Listen to me, you fucking asshole," Greg growled, his teeth clenched. "You can say whatever the fuck you want about me, but Ryan is ten times the cop and ten times the man you'll ever be." Greg paused, a small, bitter smile twisting his features. "Just because you're jealous since all you're getting is self-service—"

Without warning, the officer punched Greg in the face. Greg stumbled backwards from the force of the blow, his vision alternately patchy and blurry, barely conscious of the fact that blood was now pouring from his nose. His dimly heard the other officer calling in for a ambulance, and his protests to the cop that had hit Greg, but this did not deter the officer. "Call me queer again, faggot, and I'll make sure you get what's coming for you."

Suddenly, Greg felt a set of hands supporting him, keeping him upright, and he looked over to see Ryan standing there next to him, like some kind of a miracle. "Ryan," Greg whispered.

Ryan did not meet his eyes. His jaw was set and his face was dark. "Are you ok?" he asked in undertone. "If I let you go, can you stand?" Greg barely had time to nod before Ryan was striding over the officer. "Hey Mitchells," Ryan called, his eyes burning with hatred and fury. "Why are you so pissy today? Your ass still hurting from the banging it got last night?"

"Why, you—" snarled Mitchells, lunging for Ryan, but Ryan was already there. His fist connected with Mitchells torso, making a sickening thud and sending Mitchells in a crumpled heap to the ground.

Ryan turned him over onto his back with his foot, then placed his foot on Mitchells' throat, pressing down against his windpipe. "If you ever lay a hand on Greg again," Ryan said, his voice quiet but clear, even as his fingers inched towards his gun, "I will kill you. That is not a threat; it's a guarantee."

Then Horatio was there, with three other officers. Ryan was forcibly pulled away, and Officer Mitchells was restrained by two cops. "Officers, please escort Officer Mitchells back to PD," Horatio said, not looking at Mitchells as he said it.

Mitchells spat on the ground in front of Ryan. "Once a cop, always a cop doesn't apply to fags," he growled, glaring at Ryan with intense hatred. "And I'm sure as hell not the only one who thinks so."

As Mitchells was led away, Ryan turned to Horatio. "H, I—"

"Three days suspension, no pay," Horatio said calmly. "For you and Greg."

Ryan opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it. "What about IAB?" he asked softly.

Horatio put his sunglasses on. "Leave IAB to me." He nodded over towards Greg. "In the meantime, see to Greg. He looks like he may need to go to the hospital."

In an instant, Ryan had forgotten all about suspensions and IAB, his only concern being Greg. "Greg?" he asked, his voice instantly gentle as he reached out to touch Greg's cheek, which already looked bruised and swollen. "Greg, your nose is still bleeding. Are you all right, love? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

Greg did not look all right. He looked dazed, and deathly pale. "No," he whispered, taking a step back from Ryan, swaying slightly on his feet as he did so. "No, I'm not all right. I need…I need air. I need to breathe."

Ryan frowned, and though he didn't take another step towards him, he did reach out to grab Greg's hand. "What's wrong? Are you sure you don't want me to take you to the hospital?"

"No, no doctors, no hospitals, no sterile smells and boring taupe walls," Greg said softly, babbling almost, and shaking his head as if to clear it. Then he grew still, his body tense, and without meeting Ryan's eyes, he said, "No, I need…I need to get out of Miami…clear my head…think things through."

Ryan's breath caught in his throat, and it felt as if his heart had stopped beating. "Please don't leave me," he whispered hoarsely.

Greg looked up at him quickly, then drew him closer to him and kissed him fiercely on the mouth. "I would never leave you," he whispered, his own voice as rough as his kiss. "I love you." Then he pulled away slightly. "I just need to get away for a few days…pre-wedding jitters, you know? I think I'm gonna head to Vegas for a day or two."

"But you'll come back, right?" Ryan asked softly, hating how vulnerable he sounded, how vulnerable he was. "Because if you left me again, I would die."

Swallowing, Greg shook his head, his eyes instantly pained at the memory. "I will never hurt you like that again. You are my life, my heart, my soul," he whispered, looking Ryan straight in the eyes, though something in Greg's eyes seemed distant.

"Promise?"

Greg brought Ryan's hands up to his mouth and kissed Ryan's knuckles. "I promise."

Then he turned and walked back to the Hummer, while Ryan stood alone, left with nothing but sore knuckles and a heart full of confusion.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:** Chapter two! Not much to say. Please read and review, and most importantly, enjoy!_

Chapter Two

"_I'll be your strength  
I'll give you hope  
Keeping your faith when it's gone  
The one you should call  
Was standing here along"_

Greg wasn't expecting anybody when he got off the plane, so it came as a complete surprise to him to see Grissom standing at the baggage claim, arms crossed in front of his chest. Greg grinned at the man, then felt the grin slide off his face as Grissom answered his smile with a raised eyebrow. "Greg," Grissom said coolly. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Greg said, equally cool, as he shouldered his duffel bag. "How did you know I was going to be here?"

The frosty look did not fade from Grissom's face. "Horatio called me, after Ryan called him. You got my answer, now I want yours. What are you doing here, Greg?"

Greg's voice was quiet when he answered, quiet, tired and defeated. "I'm not running, Grissom, if that's what you're implying," he said wearily. "I'm planning on going back, so you have nothing to worry about."

For the first time since seeing Greg, Grissom smiled. "Since that's the case, I have no problem saying, it's good to see you," the older man said as he pulled Greg into an embrace. "But, if you don't mind me asking, if you're not running, then what _are_ you doing here?"

"Well," Greg said, taking a deep breath. "I was suspended for three days, so I had a bit of time on my hands, so I decided that maybe I would come out here—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Grissom laughed, holding up a hand. "You got suspended for three days? What did you do?"

Greg frowned slightly, his forehead wrinkling. "I…I don't really want to talk about it," he said quietly. "Needless to say, a few of the cops on the force have had a hard time with Ryan and I being engaged, and, uh, shit kind of hit the fan. I decided it was a good opportunity to get out of Miami, clear my head. You know."

Grissom gave him a long look, then smiled slightly. "Yes, I know. I'm glad you decided to come here. You should head to the lab with me; I know everyone will be really glad to see you."

Smiling at Grissom, Greg shifted his duffel bag further up his shoulder. "Thanks, Grissom," he said softly, following Grissom to his car.

* * *

Grissom had been right—everyone at the lab was excited to see Greg. Catherine had sprinted down the hallway when she saw him, and Nicky had practically broken his ribs with a crushing bear hug. Even Hodges had managed a small, albeit painful, smile. But this was still Vegas, and it didn't take long for some more cases to come in. Everyone had to head back to work, except for Nick, who had just finished his case, and who offered to take Greg to their favorite diner.

Greg felt reluctant to accept, as Nick was his friend who was least likely to be sympathetic towards his plight. After all, Nick was from Texas, and been raised by a Bible-beating family that had probably vocally opposed the Supreme Court overruling Texas's anti-sodomy law. Still, Nick had yet to state any problem or opposition to Greg's impending marriage; in fact, he had enthusiastically agreed to being a groomsman, much to Greg's surprise.

When they got to the diner, Nick snagged the usual booth, and both men ordered cups of coffee. As the waitress poured their coffee, Nick leaned back in the booth and raised an eyebrow at Greg. "So what are you doing here, Greg?" he asked, lifting his coffee cup to his lips.

Greg returned the raised eyebrow. "I'm drinking coffee," he deflected coolly, taking a sip from his own cup.

Rolling his eyes, Nick leaned forward. "You know what I mean. What are you doing in Vegas? Shouldn't you be at home prepping for the upcoming nuptials?" When Greg just shrugged, Nick frowned. "Did something happen? Did you and Ryan get in a fight?"

Greg chuckled weakly. "Ironically enough, yes. But not what you think." With that said, he poured out the entire story to Nick, from the various officers comments since the engagement to the culmination into actual violence the past day.

After Greg had finished, Nick sat back, looking disgusted. "I can't believe someone would do or say that to you and Ryan," he said. "If I had been there, I probably would've bashed that officer's face in. No matter what your beliefs are, at a crime scene, at work, it's not the place to display them."

"But surely you understand where they're coming from."

Now Nick looked confused. "What do you mean?"

Greg put his cup down carefully. "Well, you aren't exactly in favor of gay marriage, right?" he said slowly.

Frowning, Nick shrugged. "I'm not really for or against it. Religiously, and the way I've been raised, I've always been taught that homosexuals are sinners. But I've also had to watch people deal with the worst situations of their lives, whether as victims or as CSIs, so whatever joy people can get from this life when they're confronted with images like that, I say let them. I mean, you're hardly hurting me by being gay, Greggo."

"Right, but not a lot of people think that way, Nick. Especially not where I live. I mean, on one side, there are a lot of Cuban-American and Cuban immigrants, which are highly Catholic, for the most part. And on the other side, you've got good ol' boy southerners who aren't really loving the gay population. Either way, Ryan and I are pretty much screwed."

Nick raised one eyebrow. "That may be true," he admitted, "but I'm still not getting what you're trying to say, Greg."

"I just…I think marrying Ryan might be a mistake." When Nick looked shocked, Greg hurried on. "I mean, my God, Nicky, look at the world we live in. California just banned gay marriage. People don't want gay people to be together…people don't want Ryan and I to be together. They look at us and they think that it's not natural, that there's something wrong with our love. And who knows, Nicky." Greg looked off into the distance, his eyes dark. "Hell, not even two years ago I was as straight as you, Nicky. And I love Ryan more than anyone else, male or female, that I've met in my life. But people don't understand that; people _won't_ understand that. People will look at us and think 'Queers.' 'Faggots.' And I…" He trailed of, looking down at the table. "I just don't know anymore."

Nick looked down at his coffee cup for a few moments, his forehead wrinkled. Then he looked up at Greg, his gaze clear and direct. "Greg Sanders," he said in a low voice, "since when have you given a fuck what other people think?" Greg blushed and averted his eyes, but Nick continued. "Where is the man who blasted Marilyn Manson and wore really ugly shirts? Where is the man who danced around in a headdress, for Christ's sake?"

Greg's jaw was set. "That man grew up and saw the reality of the world."

Nick shook his head. "That's bullshit, and even you know it, Greggo. You're scared. You're scared out of your mind, so you're doing what you always do—try to find a way out. I'd say that you're a coward, but I know you're doing this because you're more worried about the implications that this will have on Ryan than on yourself—"

"And how can I not be?" Greg asked harshly, his voice full of unshed tears. "You weren't there, Nicky. You didn't hear what was said. You…you don't understand what it's like. Ryan's a cop, through and through. It's a part of his personality, a part of his soul. That's something I'll never fully understand and never be able to replace. But if we go through with this, if we get married, Ryan will lose that brotherhood he has with other cops. They would never treat him the same. And I would never want to take that from him. I could never forgive myself if I took that from him."

Shaking his head still, Nick looked down at the table, understanding on his face. "You can't take responsibility for all the bigoted idiots out there, Greg. Trust me. I've been one of them, and there is not amount of reason or anything that can change their minds." He looked up at Greg. "But you changed my mind. You showed me that gay people weren't evil or damned or anything. If anything, you showed me how much more natural and real your love with Ryan is compared to some random lay I have with a random woman. But it takes time, Greggo. And you're leading the rush. So of course they're going to say hurtful things and times will get hard, get violent. Look at Civil Rights Movement. But you have to suffer through for the reward in the end."

The tears in Greg's eyes had spilled over, and he stared miserably at the ground. "Sometimes," he whispered, sniffling slightly, "I just get so tired of being the weird one, the one that always seems to be doing something out of the ordinary. For once, I would love to be normal."

"Yeah, normal is easy," Nick agreed. "And normal is safe. But you were never meant to be normal, Greg. Your hair, your taste in music, your personality defies normality, and that's the way it is for you. To sink into the shadows would be your death. You were always meant to stand out, and you don't even know how lucky you are that you have found someone who's willing to stand out with you, to take whatever life throws at you." Nick broke off, his voice suddenly rough. "You have no idea how much I would give for a person like that."

Greg reached out and touched Nick reassuringly on the shoulder. "You'll find that girl, Nicky. And when you do, the wait will make it all the more meaningful." Pausing, he looked down at his coffee cup, a thoughtful look on his face. "And I suppose you're right. Normal just was never in the cards for me. And I am glad that Ryan has agreed to take me and love me in spite of all my abnormalities."

"Speaking of Ryan," Nick said cautiously, taking a sip of his coffee, "have you talked to him about any of this?" Greg looked away, expression sheepish. Nick choked on his coffee. "Greg, you haven't talked to him about this?" he spluttered, setting his coffee cup down and looking at Greg concernedly.

Shrugging, Greg looked away, his features decidedly unhappy. "I know what he'll say," he said softly, his brown eyes saddened. "He'll tell me that he doesn't care and that it doesn't matter and that he's happy. And he is. For now. But what about when I come home and find him practically in tears because of what one of his former friends said to him at a crime scene? What about like now, when he gets suspended for assaulting an officer, all in an attempt to protect me, or whatever?" Greg paused and took a deep breath. "He would never tell me that this was upsetting him because he wants so much for us to be happy. But he isn't happy. This is hurting him, I can tell, and there's nothing I can do about it! We can talk about it til we're blue in the face, Nicky, but it won't solve anything. Hell, I don't even know if there's a way to solve this."

Nick leaned forward to meet Greg's eyes. "Greg, I don't think there's a way to solve this because I don't think there's anything here to be solved. You and I can both agree that your relationship with Ryan will never be normal, nor will ever fit in to the point that people won't notice or make comments. So I don't think that's the problem. I think the problem is that for once in your relationship, you are happy, completely and utterly happy. And I think that because you're happy, you're worried that you're taking something away from Ryan because he's had to sacrifice something so that you can be happy. But Greg, Ryan's not the only one who has had to sacrifice something for your relationship. Greg, you moved from Las Vegas to Miami because you couldn't stand to be apart from him. You left a position in the field to take a job in the lab. And you went to rehab so that you could turn your life around and be with Ryan. Hell, Greg, you even decided to come out as a gay man because of Ryan. If that's not sacrifice, I don't know what is."

Snorting, Greg leaned back in his chair, his eyes hard. "That doesn't count," he said softly. "Those…those weren't sacrifices, not really. Not like the kind of sacrifice that I'm inherently asking him to make by being with me."

"I don't see a difference," Nick said quietly. "And neither will Ryan. I think that that's why you won't discuss this with Ryan, because you know that he will tell you the same exact thing as me. This sacrifice that he must make, if he even sees it as a sacrifice, is what he wants to do in order to be with you, and for you to be happy."

"That's not the point," Greg snapped. "He shouldn't have to sacrifice anything in the first place to be with me, no matter if he wants it or not."

Nick's hand squeezed Greg's. "Greg," he said, his voice thick, "when are you going to realize that you're worth it? You're worth the sacrifice Ryan has made because he loves you. When you love someone as completely as Ryan loves you and you love him, these sacrifices aren't even sacrifices. They're just what you do for the person that you love."

Greg looked away, his jaw clenched and his eyes bright with unshed tears. Nick sighed deeply and patted Greg on the shoulder. "Look, man, I wish I could say something else to help you, or give you some sage advice, but I don't have any other than what I've already said. You know, you knew before you even came out here that you need to be in Miami talking this over with Ryan. You've always known that. You keep running to Vegas when things get hard, but you have to know that there's nothing here for you anymore. We're all still your friends, man, a part of your family. But Vegas isn't your home. It hasn't been your home since you volunteered for some forensics conference in Chicago. Ryan's your home now, and you can deny and you can run as far as you want, but you will have to talk to him, because that's what you do with that one person who is your entire world."

Nodding once, slowly, Greg felt a small smile cross his face. "You're right," he whispered. "I can't live without Ryan. He makes me happier than I have ever known, and I will just have to work extra hard so that he is as happy as I am." Greg stood, and Nick stood as well, and then after a moment, Greg hugged him, hard. "Thank you for everything, Nicky. You said everything I needed to hear, and now I'm going home."

He turned to head for the door, but turned back slightly when Nick called after him. "Aren't you going to go say goodbye to everyone at the lab?"

Greg turned to face him fully, a huge smile on his face. "Why would I need to do that?" he asked. "I'm just going to see you all at my wedding anyway."


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N:**__ I am so, so sorry that I haven't updated this! I've been super busy, blah blah blah, y'all don't care, you just want the story. Here it is. Usual disclaimer applies! Please Read and Review!_

Chapter Three

"_And I will take you in my arms  
And hold you right where you belong  
Til the day my life is through  
This I promise you  
This I promise you"_

Ryan closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. It had been a long day…it had been a long couple of days with Greg off in Vegas, and Ryan stuck in Miami, in the apartment, because it wasn't like he could go to work, since his suspension wasn't up until the next day. He was bored, and he was restless. He didn't like not being able to work, or, more accurately, he didn't like not being able to work when Greg wasn't there to keep him otherwise occupied. Thus far, all he done for the last several hours was watching some marathon that Spike TV was showing about some cops or something that was totally unrealistic.

Sighing deeply, Ryan snuggled back further into his chair, feeling himself start to doze off. He knew that he should stay awake, since Greg should be back soon, but he couldn't seem to keep his eyes open as the TV droned on in the background…

The next thing Ryan knew, he felt soft lips on his own, and his mouth curved into a smile. "Hello, beautiful," Greg whispered into his ear as Ryan opened his eyes slowly.

Sitting up, Ryan kept the smile on his face. "Hello to you too," he said, reaching out to wrap an arm around Greg's waist. "Come back over here and kiss me properly." Though Greg instantly obeyed, Ryan felt as if there was something different in Greg's kiss, something hesitant. Ryan pulled back, frowning. "What's wrong?"

Greg looked away, but not as if he were hiding something, more as if he were contemplating something. "I went to Vegas," he started, his voice soft, "and when I first decided to go, I wasn't entirely sure why. I just knew that I needed to get out of Miami, and Vegas was the place that I instinctively turned to. I think because Vegas was my home for so long that it's naturally the place I go to hide when things get tough or when life gets complicated. And things certainly were complicated."

Ryan started to interrupt. "Greg—" he said softly, but Greg shook his head.

"No, let me get this out, because I need to say this. I went to Vegas with every intention of telling my Vegas friends that the wedding was off, that I couldn't go through with it."

Instinctively, Ryan jerked back. "What?" he said, struggling to keep breathing. "What do you mean? You were going to cancel the wedding? Why?"

Greg reached out and took Ryan's hand, squeezing it gently. "Because I saw firsthand what you were sacrificing in order to go through with the wedding. I saw the pain that you were dealing with just to be with me. And I didn't want to put you through that, not if there was another way."

Ryan stood up, abruptly, his face dark, and began pacing like a caged tiger. "You…I…how…"

Greg looked nervous. "Ryan, you need to calm down," he said softly.

"Calm down?" Ryan laughed darkly. "You have no right to tell me to calm down, Greg. In fact, you had no right to do what you did. I mean, God Greg, where the fuck do you get off?"

"What do you mean?" Greg asked, his voice quiet.

"I mean where do you get off deciding what I need or that you're making me sacrifice something?" Ryan shouted, still pacing. "Honestly, sometimes I think that you think you're the only person in this goddamn relationship. You see something happen, and it hurts you, so you decide to cut and run. What about what I want? What about me?"

Now it was Greg's turn to stand, his face white. "I was going to do it for you!" he snapped. "I was going to do it because I saw that you were hurting, and I was tired of being the reason for you to hurt. Did it ever occur to you that maybe I was doing this in spite of what I wanted, just for you?"

Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose. "And where do you get off being so noble and self-sacrificing?" he asked tiredly. "For God's sake, Greg, I never asked you to be noble. I don't want you to be noble, not for me, not for anyone."

Frowning, Greg said softly, "I wasn't trying to be purposely noble. I just saw that you were hurting. I'm sorry I took matters into my hands, but I hate seeing you hurt."

"But what you don't understand is how you would have hurt me irreparably had you gone through with what you had planned," Ryan pointed out. "And you hurting me again would have hurt more than anything else." After a long moment, Ryan sat down tiredly on the couch and asked quietly, "Besides, I don't even know what you're talking about. I'm happy, and I'm not hurting. I have you, so everything in my life is perfect."

Greg shook his head violently. "Don't lie to me," he said fiercely. "Don't lie to me because you think you have to pretend everything is fine. It's not fine, Ryan. I was there—I heard what that asshole said to you. So don't tell me everything is perfect."

"What are you even talking about?" Ryan asked exasperatedly. "What who said to me? I seriously don't know what you mean!"

"That asshole Mitchells!" Greg exploded, pacing again. "What he said to you, after you beat his ass. 'Once a cop, always a cop doesn't apply to fags.' You heard him."

Ryan stared at Greg. "Yeah, so?" he asked, his brow furrowed in conclusion.

Greg clenched his teeth. "So, that's a huge deal, Ryan! I know how much you love being a cop, what it means to you to be part of that brotherhood. And I didn't want you to feel like you had to give that up for me. I didn't want you to have to make a choice."

Still staring at Greg, Ryan asked, "Was that what made you almost call off our wedding? Really?" Unexpectedly, Ryan began to laugh, deep belly-laughs that made his entire body shake with humor.

"I don't know what you find so funny," Greg said stiffly, his hands on his hips. "I know that you heard him just as I did."

Ryan was still laughing, to the point where tears were rolling down his cheeks. "You thought…Mitchells…"

"This isn't funny!" Greg insisted, beginning to sound upset. "I'm not backing off of this because you seem to think you can laugh it off. I know this is important to you!"

Wiping the tears from his cheeks, Ryan slowly stopped laughing. "I'm sorry, Greg," he said, though a smile still stretched across his face. "I'm not laughing at you, I swear. It's just…I mean, you really let what Mitchells said get to you? I worked with him back when I was on patrol, and he hated me then just as much as he hates me now. What he said literally went in one ear and out the other. He has no hold over me, no matter what he said."

Greg frowned. "But he said he wasn't the only cop who thought so, that there were other cops who thought that you weren't a cop anymore just because you and I were together."

Ryan sobered slightly. "And I suppose he's right," he said softly to himself. "But that's not the point. Those cops were never ones that I was friends with anyway." When Greg still looked trepid, Ryan held his hand out. "Come here, you stupid man," he said softly.

Taking his hand, Greg joined him on the couch, burying his face in Ryan's shoulder. "I'm sorry I went to Vegas, and I'm sorry I thought about calling off our wedding," Greg said, his voice muffled. Then he sat up. "But at least you understand where I'm coming from. I really don't want you to have to give something up for me, especially not something as important to you as being a cop is."

"I know that," Ryan said, leaning forward so that his forehead rested against Greg's. "But you also need to know that I love you, Gregory Hojem Sanders. I love you with my whole heart and my whole life, and nothing, no amount of friendship or brotherhood lost, would make me change that. Losing you would be like losing my entire life, and nothing could ever be worth that. Nothing. I've made my choice, and it's you." He paused to kiss Greg gently on the lips. "The friends who are true will stick by me through that, and whatever brotherhood I have that is real will withstand this. But most importantly," Ryan reached out and titled Greg's chin up so that Greg was looking into his eyes. "Our love is true, and so very real, and it will withstand whatever sacrifices you or I have to make."

Greg smiled and kissed Ryan back. "The same goes for me," he said softly. "You know that. And I promise in the future I won't do anything this stupid without talking to you about it beforehand."

"Good." Ryan nipped jokingly at Greg's nose. "Because I would hate to have to hide your body." He stood suddenly, offering his hand to Greg. "Now come on."

Though he stood, Greg still raised an eyebrow. "Where are we going, oh lover of mine?"

Ryan pulled him close, hooking his fingers through Greg's belt loops. "Well," he whispered in Greg's ear, "we kind of had a fight today, and since I haven't seen you in two days, I figured it was fine time for some hot make up sex before we have to go back to work."

Greg grinned. "I like that plan," he said, following Ryan to the bedroom, both perfectly happy.


End file.
